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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24499141">Broken</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaff63/pseuds/emmaff63'>emmaff63</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff and Smut, Harrymort - Freeform, Love, M/M, Shameless Smut, Smut, Soulmates, tomarry - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:40:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,544</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24499141</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaff63/pseuds/emmaff63</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Voldemort discover the shocking truth about their connection.</p><p>I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter &amp; Tom Riddle, Harry Potter &amp; Tom Riddle | Voldemort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Harry Potter Smut</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. First Touch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry’s eyes stung with tears, whether from the pain of the restraints which held him tightly to the bygone gravestone, or the shock that tore through him at the realization that Cedric was gone, or both. He couldn’t quite tell. As he attempted to organize his thoughts through his stupor, his mind flashed ever so briefly to the Quidditch World Cup, only months before. How happy he was, how beautiful the magic all around him had been. That world of beauty and warmth was gone in an instant as his focus returned to the present moment. Now, the magic which surrounded him was starkly heinous, ugly, and deadly. It had stolen Cedric from him in an instant.</p>
<p><br/>Harry watched as Wormtail carefully lowered the child-like creature into the cauldron before them. The cold that crept over Harry told him that this was the darkest magic he had faced yet. He knew that the disfigured body was Voldemort. He recognized it from his dream. He felt it in his very soul.</p>
<p><br/>The Death Eater proceeded to add the final ingredients to the vile potion. A bone from the grave below Harry… was this the grave of Voldemort’s father? Harry winced in disgust as Wormtail sliced his own hand into the bubbling brew, before helping himself to Harry’s own blood. Once this, the final ingredient, was added, the potion turned blindingly white, and sent bright sparks flying as it hissed and shrieked. Finally, after what seemed like ages, the chaos subsided and a thick white steam billowed from the cauldron.<br/>Harry felt a searing pain in his scar. He knew what he was seeing, but it was nonetheless impossible for him to process. Voldemort, the Dark Lord, was materializing before Harry’s eyes. As he emerged from the cauldron, his physical body became clear and defined. Voldemort stood, examining his new figure. The Dark Lord’s carmine eyes followed the shape of his chalky physique, as he took a moment to drink in the excitement and pleasure of the feeling of having his own body once more. He stood unclothed, running his spidery hands along every surface, limb, and member of his new anatomy.</p>
<p><br/>Harry watched, terrified, yet somewhat awestruck at what he witnessed. Voldemort was reborn as a fully grown man. His rail-like figure was thin, yet angular and defined. He might have even been attractive if it weren't for the piercing red eyes and the slits where his nose should have been. Harry’s eyes fell to the area between Voldemort’s slender legs, his eyes growing wide at what he saw. But, before he had time to think any further about it, Voldemort spoke his first words as a new man. He called upon Wormtail to robe him. After donning his impressive black cloak, he turned his attention to Harry.</p>
<p><br/>“Ah Harry… I would introduce myself, but word has it you’re almost as famous as me these days. The Boy…… Who Lived. How lies have fed you legend Harry. Let me divulge what really happened that night, thirteen years ago.” His voice was icy, yet deep and smooth. He spoke his next words mocking the moment that had changed Harry’s life forever, “You see, when dear, sweet Lily Potter sacrificed her own life for her only son, she provided the ultimate protection.” He paused, reflecting on his mistake all those years ago. “It was love,“ he nearly whispered. “I could not touch him. It was old magic, something I should have foreseen.” His eyes trailed to Harry. “But no matter... I can touch you now!” He sprang forth, lurching towards Harry with his arm outstretched.</p>
<p><br/>Voldemort placed one long finger upon Harry Potter’s forehead. Neither of them could have predicted what would happen next. Harry felt something deep within him, within his very soul, rise to meet the Dark Lord’s touch. He called out, as if in pain, but the feeling was more of a closing, a connection. Harry felt full, tethered to something bigger than himself. He could only describe the feeling as that of being… home. He knew Voldemort’s touch shouldn’t feel like this. But he couldn’t say it felt wrong. In fact, nothing had ever felt more right.</p>
<p><br/>Voldemort felt a jolt through his body when his touch met the boy. It was as if he had never seen clearly before. His body, his mind, and his soul were filled with a sudden light. A light that seemed to wash out the stifling darkness that had been building inside of him for as long as he could remember. He suddenly felt the urge to take Harry’s face into his hand. To caress it. He was overcome with new feelings which he had never experienced. He wanted to hold the boy, to care for him, to protect him. Unnerved by the images and senses filling his thoughts, he quickly broke contact with Harry. As soon as he did, the light was gone, but the memory of it held in the murky graveyard light. Voldemort shoved the moment deep into his subconscious. He knew, however, that it would be a long time before he could forget what he had just felt. For the first time in his life, he had felt it. He could not yet understand it. His dark heart had never before known <em>love</em>.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Months Later</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“My Lord…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voldemort’s thought was interrupted as Lucius entered the room. He was tired of Lucius’ pathetic excuses. Seeing as he did not have the prophecy with him, the Dark Lord knew that something had gone wrong with Podmore in the Department of Mysteries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, Lucius? I see you have failed yet again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My Lord,” Lucius began, his voice sounding desperate already, “Podmore was unable to-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voldemort cut him off, “I don’t care. There is work to be done. I need that prophecy, Lucius. Just get it. I don’t care what you have to do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is another who may be able to with the use of the imperius curse,” he spoke hurriedly, “Bode. With Bodrick Bode, we might be able to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just said, I don’t care how it's done. Just do it. And I don’t want to see you again until you have succeeded. Leave me now, Lucius.” Voldemort snapped. Lucius hurried away, trying to hide the scowl on his sallow face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alone again, The dark Lord allowed his thoughts to trail back to what he had been pondering just moments before. He had spoken to no one about what had happened in Little Hangleton, but he had certainly thought a great deal about it. He didn’t understand what exactly had happened. He didn’t understand what it meant. He knew that he had a connection with the boy, but this felt different. This felt warm, and soft, and… pleasant. It wasn’t the same feeling of satisfaction he had when he achieved great feats of magical ability, or murdered for fun. This “good” feeling had nothing to do with the Dark Lord’s own personal gains, and everything to do with the boy. He imagined how Harry’s skin had felt beneath his own that night, and wondered if Harry had felt something too. Voldemort was intrigued. More than intrigued. This curiosity that had overcome him in the past few months was becoming unbearable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voldemort had been trying to focus on his mission as much as possible in order to keep his attention away from that moment in the graveyard. He had worked tirelessly recruiting Death Eaters and giants, and spent hours plotting a way to get the prophecy he so desperately needed to carry out his quest to become the all-powerful. But in that moment, sitting, thinking in the study of Malfoy Manor, he decided to indulge himself. He was perhaps the most skilled Legiliman who had ever lived, and he knew that with his connection to Harry Potter, he would easily find him. Voldemort took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and allowed his mind to find the boy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he opened his eyes, he was standing in King’s Cross Station. He had found Harry Potter. There he was, directly in front of him. Voldemort’s heart pounded as he stood motionless, seeing the boy for the first time since the graveyard. Harry froze, and Voldemort knew he had been seen. The Dark Lord wondered for a moment why he had come here. He didn’t know what to do, he was left at a loss for words. Should he call out, should he move towards him? Voldemort never felt self-conscious. He was the lord of darkness after all. But in that moment, met with Harry Potter’s gaze, all he could do was look away, ashamed, afraid of his own feelings. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. More Months Later</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“FOOLS!” Voldemort called out in rage as he watched his servants fail yet again at the ministry of magic. He knew he had no choice but to intervene. The Dark Lord had not intended to appear in the ministry himself, as he knew his ever-perplexing thoughts towards Harry Potter would only obstruct the mission. Nevertheless, he apparated just in time to hear the boy’s tantalizing voice speaking his name. It echoed through the hall, surprising Voldemort, as he was not used to hearing his own name spoken. “Save your breath, Voldemort can’t hear you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Filled with anger towards his blithering Death Eaters for failing him, he knocked a sniveling Bellatrix aside, deciding he would end this Harry Potter once and for all. He had a mission to complete, a plan to fulfill, a destiny to achieve. He wouldn't let this boy, and one single moment in the graveyard stand in his way any longer. In the heat of his malice, the tender moment was nearly forgotten. Voldemort raised his wand and released a killing curse. However, his curse was blocked and before he had time to think, he was dueling the most powerful wizard that had ever lived. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Until now</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought to himself. He was determined to end Dumbledore, the old man who had always stood in his way. But it soon became obvious that Dumbledore was overpowering him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Voldemort's anger grew stronger, more dense, until it nearly tore him in two. In a final attempt to end his adversaries, Voldemort, hoping Dumbledore would kill Harry in an attempt to end him, possessed Harry Potter.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Possession</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Once inside of Potter, Voldemort regretted his decision. Inside of Harry’s mind, it was as if the boy had possessed him. Both pleased and terrified, Voldemort felt himself overcome once again with that blinding, cleansing light, which filled every corner of his dark soul. He felt at ease, he felt calm. The anger had disappeared completely. He looked around himself, blinking in the brightness as a figure took shape before him. “H-Harry?” He spoke the boy’s name softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The figure, which he could now see clearly, was indeed Harry Potter. “Hello, Tom.” Harry said calmly. “I’m glad we can finally speak to one another. I know you’ve been watching me all year. Why? And, please, let's just be honest.” Voldemort noticed that Harry had used his former name. He had killed people for doing just that, but he didn’t seem to mind when Harry did it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before answering, Voldemort looked around. They were somewhere that looked like King’s Cross Station, however, cleaner. He looked back at the boy. He noticed that here, in Harry’s mind, they too, were cleaner. Harry looked like he could have been on his way to the Yule Ball, elegant in demeanor, wearing robes which were completely white. Voldemort stood, looking down at his own robes which matched Harry’s. He was surprised to see that his hands were pink and young-looking. He instinctively felt his face, his hair. He had hair. In Harry’s mind, he was human again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, he found words, “Harry… I… you… I want to be honest with you.” He didn’t know what had overcome him. Why did he feel so differently than normal? He began spilling words, forgetting his methodical ways, and allowing his heart to take over. Before this moment, Tom had not known that it was possible to speak from one’s heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry, that night in the graveyard, when I touched you, I felt something. Something I had never felt before. I… I think it was love.” He paused, looking to Harry for some sign of encouragement. Harry looked at him with a furrowed brow, but did not speak. Tom continued, “I have been pondering it for months. I couldn’t understand it. No one knows this about me, but I was born under the effects of a love potion. You know what that means, don’t you? I can’t feel love. I gave up trying so long ago. But when I laid my hand on you, I think that is what I was feeling. Harry… Please… I don’t know what to do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry was surprised that Tom had been so honest, so vulnerable. He wanted to reach out and take Tom’s hand. He wanted to pull him close, but he wasn’t ready yet. “Tom,” he started, “I know. I felt it too. I know what love feels like. I felt that connection as well. I didn’t understand it at all. I was confused, angry, and scared. How could I love </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>? You killed my parents, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>ruined</span>
  </em>
  <span> my family.” He paused, and sighed. Then seeing the anguish on Tom’s face, he continued, “But, all of that aside, I knew that I had felt something that night. So… I began to research, I asked Hermione, my friend, and the brightest witch her age to help me. I told her I was after some girl, of course. No one knows about...</span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I needed her to help me find out what had happened between you and I. Then, just a few nights ago, we came across something that could just be our answer. It was an old book in the restricted section of the library. The original and only copy. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Soulmates</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It's a legend about the ancient idea that every person has one person who is their soulmate. The inscription says it's a dangerous thought for most people, who will go mad searching for that one person. Your soulmate could be any age, sex, magical ability, or lack thereof. A lot of people are born centuries apart from their soulmates. Most people never find theirs. But the bottom line is that if you do, you can’t not love them, no matter what the circumstances may be.” Harry stepped closer to Tom, trembling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tom, what are we supposed to-” Tom stepped forward, catching Harry off-guard. Harry felt as Tom gently took his elbows into his hands, pulling Harry’s arms around him. Tom, much taller than Harry, rested his cheek on the boy’s head, inhaling the smell of him. There was no doubt in Tom’s mind, this was right. How could it be? How could it not be? This boy who was supposed to be his mortal enemy was saving him from himself. Tom felt light, </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as he now realized it was, seeping into the core of his being, replacing the darkness and hate that he had come to think was normal. He could stay like this forever, holding Harry close, but he had so much he had to do. So much he had to fix. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom began to sob. He couldn’t stop himself. “I’m so sorry, Harry. Nothing can ever forgive what I have done. B-but.. You have to understand… the love potion… it was my parents… I wanted to love… just couldn't…” He could hardly breath as he cried into Harry. After he was able to get a hold of himself, he stepped back, keeping Harry’s hands in his own, looking to him for some sort of absolution. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, Harry felt nervous, as Tom had touched him for the first time since the graveyard, but it was as if he had melted into Tom’s embrace. When Tom looked him in the eyes again, Harry spoke, realizing tears were falling from his own eyes, “Tom, it's done. It couldn’t have been your fault. You are forgiven.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pain of Tom’s past began to melt slowly, like ice in the glimmering sunlight. He never realized that all of this time, all he needed was someone to show him even a hint of love. The name </span>
  <em>
    <span>Voldemort</span>
  </em>
  <span> faded with the hatred inside. Tom Riddle looked down at Harry, both smiling through their tears. He cupped Harry’s round face in his hands, bringing their lips together at last. Tom couldn’t believe this feeling. Though he’d been sexual with many people, he had never kissed anyone before. Who would have wanted that? But he felt his soulmate’s eagerness as Harry pushed apart his lips, savoring the taste as their tongues intertwined. Too soon, Harry broke away and looked up at Tom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are we going to do? We have to go back. There’s a battle raging out there, and you are still Lord Voldemort.” Tom now winced at the sound of his former chosen name. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry, I need to tell you something. I have done something, well many things, that are unforgivable. But one particular thing that needs to be righted before I can begin to fix all of the other things that I have done.” Harry’s heart pounded as he anxiously awaited Tom’s explanation. “I divided my soul into pieces in order to achieve immortality, even if my body is destroyed. I see now that I was so utterly foolish.” Harry let out the breath that he had been holding in anticipation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are going to fix your soul. Whatever happens from this moment on, we are going forth together.” Harry reassured him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom looked worriedly at Harry. “I don’t think it's that simple Harry, the prophecy said that-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know… </span>
  <em>
    <span>neither can live while the other survives</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I know… But Tom, the prophecy refers specifically to “The Dark Lord. That is not you. You shed that identity the moment you came here.” Harry was right. Tom had never liked Divination for exactly that reason. Too many loopholes, too many possible outcomes. Nothing was ever as it seemed. Tom knew there was still more that Harry needed to know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry… there's something else. That night, in Godric’s Hollow, the night I-” he paused, feeling the full and utter guilt of what he had done, “The night I killed your parents, my soul was torn again. I felt it, it was just like the other times. The only possible thing it could have latched onto was you. Your scar… I think that's why it's there.” Tom looked away, ashamed of himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry’s next words surprised him. “Tom, look at me.” Tom looked, and Harry brushed his cheek tenderly with his knuckles. Tom had never felt anything so pure. “I already know. How could I not have known? A part of you has always lived in me. I didn’t fully understand it before, but now I do.” Harry wiped a lone tear from Tom’s angular cheekbone. “Right here is where we begin. Come here.” Harry led Tom to a nearby bench. “Take it.” He said motioning beneath the bench. Tom crouched down and saw a small, bent figure. It looked like a child. He felt a pang in his chest as he realized this represented </span>
  <em>
    <span>him.</span>
  </em>
  <span> A child deprived of love. He felt sad, he felt sorry, but he knew what he needed to do. He began to reach for the small figure. To his surprise, it reached up to him. It craved love. It craved the love he had never given himself. How could he love himself when no one in the world loved him? That was going to change now, he knew it. Tom picked up the fragment of his soul that had lived inside Harry, and held it close. It whimpered once, then suddenly, in a flash of blinding light, it seemingly melted inside of Tom’s chest. He stumbled forwards, catching himself with his hands. Looking up, he took the hand that was offered to him. Harry’s hand. The first hand offered to him out of love. Not fear, not hatred, but love. “Well?” Harry asked, “How do you feel?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom’s reply surprised even himself. “I feel…Lighter.” Harry smiled, laughing, relieved and responded, “Me too.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Into the Mountains</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Outside of Harry’s head, mere seconds had passed. When Harry opened his eyes in the Ministry of Magic, he took Tom’s hand, just as they had planned. He could scarcely blink and they were already apparating. When Harry regained his senses, he looked around and found that he and Tom were standing in a wooded clearing bathed in moonlight, the temperature much colder than it should have been that time of year. Harry looked to Tom. He was still Lord Voldemort. Ashy gray skin, slits for nostrils and all. The only thing that had changed was his demeanor. Tom hung his head, one arm across his body, holding the other. Tom spoke first, “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to have to see me like this anymore. But I can’t change my body until what's left of my soul has been restored.” Harry hurried closer to him. Just Harry’s touch sent relief pulsing through him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care what you look like. One of the perks of the whole “soulmate” thing. I still love you anyway. Now, where are we?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom beamed at Harry’s words. He couldn’t stop himself from pulling Harry close and kissing him. Harry could scarcely believe how amazing it felt to kiss Lord Voldemort. But he was just Tom to him. A boy who just needed love. Harry’s love. When they finally broke apart, Tom answered Harry’s question. “We’re in the mountains of Albania. This is where I hid for all those years. I know it's not very appealing, but I’m familiar with the area, and it's the first place I could think of to get away from everyone. We need to avoid Death Eaters and the Order until we figure out what we are going to do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was right, and Harry knew it. Though he couldn’t help but think about how worried his friends would be. Suddenly, the events of the night came flooding back to Harry. He remembered Sirius. He couldn’t hold back his emotions, and he suddenly fell to his knees, head in his hands, sobbing. Tom’s sure hand on his back was comforting to Harry, but Harry still felt frustrated about this senseless war. Tom’s words in his ear guided him back to the moment, to the forest in Albania. “I am so sorry. I know he was your family. I am here.” Harry felt proud of Tom for sympathizing, and managed to collect himself. There was nothing that could be done now. Sirius was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom spoke, “We need to find a place to rest and recover. It so happens that I know one.” Tom took Harry’s hand and led him through the trees and brush. Seemingly out of nowhere, they arrived at the opening of a cave. “Right… looks like my enchantments are still working. Sorry about the mess, Harry.” Tom led him inside and started a fire with his wand in the makeshift hearth at the center of the cave. He began pointing his wand at the animal bones and debris that littered the space. Soon enough, everything was in order, Tom had even dusted off the old sleeping mat in the corner. “Please, make yourself comfortable, I will find us something to eat.” Tom hurried out of the cave. He was ecstatic to finally have Harry alone, but still feeling nervous and unsure about how to act. He hadn’t had this kind of interaction before. He knew Harry was hurting emotionally. He felt the need to protect him, care for him. Tom thought too much about things. He knew that. It was part of the reason he was always so methodical. But he decided these thoughts wouldn’t help him now. He would have to try “using his heart” again. So, he pushed the thoughts aside and set to finding something to eat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Tom returned to the cave, his heart welled at the sight of Harry, warming himself by the fire, the light dancing behind him. Tom carried a pheasant and some yew berries, which were highly poisonous to muggles, but a delightful treat for wizards. When Harry looked up at him, Tom gave his best attempt at a smile, and set to preparing their supper. Tom cleared his throat, unsure if his words were the right ones, “Okay, Harry?” Harry once again noticed the deep smoothness in Tom’s voice. </span>
</p><p><span>“I’ll be alright. What's for supper?” He didn’t want to talk about Sirius yet, but he appreciated Tom reaching out like that. </span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Some pheasant and...You.” Tom replied casually. </span></p><p>
  <span>“What?” Harry’s eyes went wide. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Realizing what he’d done, Tom went scarlet. “Berries! They’re berries! Y-E-W, yew berries.” He quickly exclaimed. Now Harry was the one who felt his face turn red. In just a few minutes, supper was ready. Until they started eating, neither had quite realized that they were ravishing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After supper, Harry thanked Tom. He knew there was so much more that needed to be said between them, but he just didn’t feel like talking tonight. Harry moved closer to Tom as Tom gently added more flame to the fire with his wand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It all seems so stupid. So useless… Such as waste.” Tom started. “Everything I have done out of selfishness and hate. It's like my eyes have been opened. I see what I have done now. It makes me sick” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry sat next to Tom and took his arm, and placed it over his own shoulders as he nestled close. Tom felt his heart flutter at the simple action. Harry reassured him, “We’ve spent our whole lives feeling negative things. Grief, hatred, sadness, fear, loss, guilt… Please, let's just put all of that aside and celebrate one tiny victory. We have each other. We discovered the truth. Our truth.” Tom looked down at the sweet young man in his arms. He kissed the top of Harry’s head. He was right. All of that wondering, thinking, doubting, that he’d been doing for the year since the graveyard. This is what it all came down to, he and Harry, together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom turned to face Harry, overcome with sudden gratitude for him. He cupped Harry’s face in his broad hands and brought him closer for a kiss. Tom put both of his arms behind Harry’s back and pulled him in closer so that Harry sat in between Tom’s parted legs. With such proximity, and both of their bodies beginning to respond, he felt the heat rise between them. In an instant, they both needed one another more than they had ever needed anyone. Tom stood, pulling Harry to his feet with him. Their bodies were now touching. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry could feel Tom, hard against his belly. Both began breathing faster as they stumbled hastily to the sleeping mat in the corner. Nearly there, Harry was overcome with longing as Tom gently pinned him against the wall, still locking tongues in a passionate kiss. Again, Harry could feel Tom growing harder against him. Harry wanted more. He wanted it all. Every inch. He spoke through their kiss, “Tom… please… I want you…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom could hardly contain his lust as Harry gave him permission to take it further. Tom began fumbling to remove Harry’s t-shirt as Harry hastily unfastened the buttons on Tom’s cloak. With Harry’s shirt off, and Tom’s slender figure nearly completely exposed, save for his undergarments. Harry stopped to take in his lover. It was nothing new, he had been there for Tom’s rebirth into this body, yet at the same time, everything was new. This was his soulmate. There was no one more beautiful. Harry found himself reaching for the last of Tom’s clothing, pulling them down around his ankles. As he did, Tom’s enormous erection bounced upward, pulsing against Tom’s stomach. Harry’s eyes widened with hunger. He wasn’t a virgin, he had messed around a few times with Cedric, but he had never seen anything like this. Tom chuckled as he saw how Harry reacted to seeing his member. Harry reached down and began to stroke Tom, scarcely able to take in everything he felt. Tom leaned in closer, cupping Harry’s head in his hand and began to kiss and nibble at Harry’s neck. This sent chills through Harry, awakening every sensation in his body. He felt his nipples harden and noticed that his jeans were uncomfortably tight. As Tom’s fingers found his nipples and squeezed, Harry couldn’t contain himself. “Tom please,” he begged his lover, “take off my trousers.” Tom gladly obliged, never hesitating as he removed them and continued to leave love marks on Harry’s neck. Harry felt his penis come free of the jeans and shuddered as his cock and Tom’s pressed together, the heat rising further between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry found himself kneeling before Tom, eager to pleasure his lover. Harry did his best to take Tom's length into his mouth, as Tom trembled at the sensation of Harry’s lips on his penis. Without stopping, Harry grabbed for his wand in the pocket of his jeans, pointed it at his throat and fired a quick spell which he had used a few times before to disable his gag reflex. With the size of Tom, he was going to need it. Harry effortlessly began to swallow Tom’s pulsing cock, causing Tom to throw his head back, moaning in pleasure. Tom placed his wide hand on the back of Harry’s head, curling his fingers through Harry’s hair, gently coaxing him deeper and deeper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As perfect as this moment felt, Tom soon had to stop Harry or he knew he would cum too soon. “Harry,” he whispered, “please, let me make you feel this good.” Tom picked up his smaller lover and carried him the few steps to the mat, gently placing Harry down on his back. He laid down beside him and began kissing, sucking, lapping up every inch of Harry Potter. Tom ran his hand lightly from Harry’s neck until he firmly grasped Harry’s cock. He invited Harry to do the same to him. They began stroking one another, gaining speed, and losing all sense of direction in their mutual delight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tom, STOP-” Harry suddenly exclaimed. “I don’t want to finish yet.” It seemed that he too wanted to go all the way before this ended. “Please, I want to feel you inside me.” Harry pleaded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom felt overcome with love and attraction toward his partner. He caressed Harry from head to cock before gently positioning him with his belly on the mat. He guided Harry to spread his legs underneath him, fully exposing his hole. Tom positioned himself on top of Harry, so that there was no space between Harry’s back and Tom’s torso. He placed his arm across Harry’s chest beneath him and whispered into his ear. “Are you sure you want to do this?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without having to think, Harry replied in a sultry whisper, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feeling that Harry was completely relaxed, Tom gave a shove of his cock and popped into Harry’s tight ass. Tom heard Harry make a soft whimper, but his body showed no signs of protest. Slowly at first, Tom began to move his hips back and forth, as their moans of pleasure soon became intertwined. Harry had never felt more like the chosen one than in this moment, bringing this amount of pleasure to the former Dark Lord. Tom, on the other hand, felt more and more enveloped in all of Harry’s love with each thrust inside of him. As if the pain of all of those years was washed away by Harry’s sweet moaning. Tom's hands moved all over every inch of Harry’s body, finally firmly grasping Harry’s cock, as they both began wracking their hips in sync, Harry rising to meet Tom’s thrusts. Tom felt tears sting his eyes as he allowed the emotion and the pleasure of the moment to overtake him. He found himself groaning, “I love you Harry”  into his lover’s ear, and in the next moment he was exploding inside of Harry as Harry called out his name and covered Tom in his juices. The two soulmates continued riding the waves of their orgasms for long moments until both collapsed onto the mat, intertwined, not knowing where one ended and the other began. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom pulled his young love closer, pushing back Harry’s bangs and tenderly kissing his forehead. Both were in blissful shock, still unable to believe what had just happened. Harry spoke dreamily as if he were on the verge of sleep, “You know, I came from a broken childhood too. We have that in common. I know what it's like.” He sighed sleepily into Tom’s chest, as Tom pulled the blankets over them. The fire grew dim as Tom reflected on what Harry had said. Tom was certainly broken. Harry had been too. But Harry had something that until recently Tom had lacked. Tom knew now that he could finally begin to heal his brokenness. His broken body, mind, heart, and soul. He could rest now, for the first time in his life. He could rest in Harry’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
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